


At My Worst, You Still Thought I Was The Best

by ironfamjam



Series: Irondad Bingo [8]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Peter is Worthy, Peter is a BAMF, Protective Peter Parker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 12:16:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19295566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironfamjam/pseuds/ironfamjam
Summary: In our lowest moments come our greatest triumphs.They're outnumbered four to two. Peter doesn't have a suit. Tony is being taken. And somehow, Peter discovers he's worthy.Irondad Bingo Prompt: Protective PeterTumblr prompt: Peter wielding Thor's hammer with a dose of irondad





	At My Worst, You Still Thought I Was The Best

It had been…a really long day. And a bad one. A really, really bad one. Peter collapses on the couch, freshly showered, suit tucked away, in the compound’s common room that’s honestly too big to be a real living room. It missed out on the coziness factor by about five times- but! It also had a huge TV screen and about every subscription service known to man so- Peter sighs, sinking deeper into the cushions. 

He just…he wants to just wallow. And forget maybe. Mostly just let his guilt fester. 

Thor collapses across form him, setting down Mjolnir on the coffee table with a thud. “Tonight, we feast!” he declares, pounding his chest and staring expectantly at Tony.

“We literally feast every night. It’s called feeding a bunch of superheroes every day.” Tony drawls, but he’s already pulling out his phone to put in an order.

“Can we get something from that new Japanese fusion place down on third? I heard it was really good.” Bruce says, already on his way down the hall to his room.

Peter sinks deeper. They’re all ridiculously cheerful for what was a horrific mistake and a stupid move and something Peter could have avoided if he was just- if he was just better. 

“Thor?” Tony looks up from his phone.

Thor pauses, “Is that where they have the little rice things? With the weeds?” 

Tony tries not to laugh, “Sushi? Yeah bud. I’ll order a ton. They’ll probably cry about it, but the tip will be worth it. So feel free to go shower until the food gets here.” Tony jokes.

Thor glares, before his lip flicks up, and he leaves a few moments later, knocking Tony’s shoulder playfully. 

Peter still hasn’t said anything and Tony sets his phone down, walking towards him. “Peter?” he asks, tilting his head.

Peter looks up, sees his arm in a sling and the bruising all along his neck and left side of his face. Peter knows there’s more under his shirt and scars from where the metal of the suit sliced into him. 

He looks away.

“Yeah Mr. Stark…whatever you want.” 

Tony frowns, coming to sit next to him, sighing. “Kid, we talked about this.”

“What?” he says sullenly, trying to pretend everything was different. 

“It wasn’t your fault-”

“It was.” Peter snaps up, straight-backed, eyes fervent and intense, “Just- just say it. And let me deal with it- please?” 

Tony shakes his head, but Peter knows better. He knows _better_. When push came to shove. He was too late. When The Spiral came knocking, the Avengers rushed to stop them. They had infiltrated a weapons vault and were planning on stealing billions of dollars’ worth of some of the most lethal machinery known to man. 

Peter was told to clear out the backroom while Tony worked on enabling the security system and invoking the breach protocols. Peter was supposed to be guarding him. Except-

Peter hangs his head. 

“I let him get away Mr. Stark.” And his voice doesn’t shake. It just is. “You asked me to watch your back and I let him go right by me and then he threw you into a wall and the ceiling broke on top of you and I couldn’t get there in time.” 

“You needed a hero and I…” his fingers reach up to rest ever so lightly on Tony’s bruised hand, “This is on me.” 

Tony’s eyes close as he sighs before pinning Peter with a stare he can’t break, “Peter-” 

But the back of his neck prickles and Peter smacks a hand over it, turning around just in time to see all three windows shatter as masked men in black armor flew through. Peter jumps up, heart clenching in fear as Tony follows suit. 

The men inch closer, pointing giant guns they need to hold with both hands right at them. Peter tenses, bending into the slightest of crouches as though readying to pounce. But Tony’s hand grabs his arm and squeezes. He catches Tony’s eye and Tony looks more serious than Peter’s ever seen him. His fingers dig deeper into Peter’s arm and Peter grits his teeth. 

He understands the message. 

He gets it. 

He _gets_ it- but!

Tony’s grip tightens. 

Peter bows his head, a sign of bitter defeat. 

Don’t engage. Don’t interact. You’re not Spiderman, you’re Peter Parker. And Peter Parker can’t fight. His hands clench into fists so tight he feels his nails dig into his palms. He’s shaking and the infiltrators probably think it’s from fear but he’s angry. He’s beyond angry. Because for the second time, he’s going to let Tony down. And Tony can’t even fight. Not like this. 

Tony’s hand moves to tap at his reactor but the men all swerve their guns in Peter’s direction and the first one steps forward, voice low, “You put that suit on and the boy dies.” 

The room silences. 

“I can take it!” Peter wants to yell, “I can jump. I can dodge. I can see the bullets before they even reach me.” he wants to scream as loud as he can. 

But he can’t. So he doesn’t. 

And it kills every part of him. 

“Throw the reactor over to us.” the man calls and slowly, Tony does as he’s told.

Peter can hear his heartbeat. It’s steady. Stable. Until Tony glances at him from the corner of his eye and it picks up and that’s when Peter realizes he’s afraid. 

He clenches his teeth again. He needs to do something. He needs to fix this. 

“You’re coming with us.” the man says and Peter’s head snaps up.

“ _No_.” he shouts, stepping in front of Tony. “He’s not going anywhere.”

“Peter.” Tony says quietly, breath blowing past his ear.

But Peter won’t relent. Can’t. His arm is outstretched, blocking Tony’s path and it shakes in the air. “You can’t have him.” 

The man takes a step forward, “I wasn’t asking.” He walks closer, close enough for Peter to grab.

He reaches into his utility belt and pulls out a handgun, he presses it right against Peter’s forehead. The metal is cold against his skin. He hears Tony’s breath hitch, his heart pound louder and louder. And Peter knows what he will do before he does it. 

“If you had just asked politely, I might have come along without all this fuss.” Tony drawls, stepping out from behind Peter and strolling past the man to walk to where his lackeys are.

“So? Where’s my golden carriage? I’m warning you, I get a little carsick so try to avoid the potholes will you?” 

“Mr. Stark!” Peter cries, moving to follow him but the gun presses deeper into his forehead.

“Uh uh, little one. You’re not invited.” And he pushes Peter so that he walks backwards into the armchair. “You stay here, or you’re not going to like what we do to him.” And to prove his point, he jerks his head and the man who had Tony in a vice like grip grabs his broken arm and twists it. 

Tony gurgles on his scream, his face draining of all colour as he gasps. Peter’s eyes widen. His body feels hot all over. His fingers digging holes into the arm-rests. Tony falls to his knees as the man kicks him down and he falls onto his arm, hissing loudly and the men are laughing around him and Peter can’t feel his limbs and he’s panting but there’s no air in his lungs and he can’t see this right now, he can’t see this. Not again. Not again. He has to be better. He said he would be better. 

And the man is cocking his fist behind his head and Peter sees the trajectory right towards Tony’s face and he roars, shoving the man with the gun so that he flips over the couch. The second man looks up in shock, all of them pointing their guns at him but Peter’s too angry to care. He’s too furious to think. All he sees is Tony and all he feels is the certainty in his heart that he can’t ever watch Tony leave. Not now. Not ever. 

Not while he can do something about it. 

And the man has his gun pointed at Tony’s head now to make Peter afraid, but he isn’t afraid- he won’t be cowed- he’s going to save Tony. He’s going to save him. Because that’s _Tony_. _His_ Tony. His mentor and his friend and his guide and his- Peter’s hand shakes- that’s his _hero_. And he can’t lose him. Peter’s hands reach for the first thing he sees. His fingers curl around Thor’s hammer and a surge of electricity courses through him. He breathes hard. He feels the power of the cosmos. The power of the Gods. The power of nature’s most powerful force. 

He opens his mouth and a yell more fierce than any wild thing roars and he whips the hammer through the air and knows in his heart that it will do as it’s told. Mjolnir knocks down the man from Tony’s side before zooming in an arc, the other two flying out the window. The hammer sizzles with electricity as it crashes back into Peter’s open palm. 

Tony looks at him and he’s so in awe Peter almost loses all his focus. But he looks closer and realizes it’s not awe he sees but pride, and a small smile as though Tony had known all along. Just as quickly, Tony snaps into action, grabbing his reactor from where it had fallen just as a bolt of lightning shoots into the room. 

Thor emerges, wearing only a towel, eyes glowing a ferocious blue. “You’re going to regret that.” he declares, voice low, as the first man stumbles upwards, pointing his gun in Thor’s direction. 

Thor scoffs, lightening crackling all over his arms and shooting out so that both infiltrators’ eyes roll back around their heads as they fall to the floor. With the threat gone, Thor whirls around to see Peter still holding his hammer, and he suddenly feels the most incredible kind of awkward in the world. 

Thor stares.

Tony’s lips quirk up as he stands, wincing. “So is the kid leader of Asgard now or what?”

“Leader of- wait, what??” Peter squeaks, dropping the hammer to the floor. 

He throws his hands up, “I’m sorry Mr. Thor! I didn’t mean to like, borrow your stuff, or anything, but they were gonna take Mr. Stark and I just couldn’t not do anything and then I-”  
But Thor just smiles, holding out his arm so that Mjolnir flies towards him. 

He swings the hammer in his hand and looks at Tony. “You were right Stark.” 

Tony smirks, “Always am.” 

Peter blinks. “I feel like I’m missing something here…”

Thor claps Tony on the shoulder. “I’m glad you’re okay. I’ll go deal with these two. You can go explain that Asgard is still mine.” 

Tony snorts, walking over to Peter and clapping him on the shoulder. “Well you heard the man, ruling a whole nation seems kinda tedious anyway.” 

“Well yeah, probably, but what did Thor mean-”

Tony shakes his head, “It’s nothing kid. Don’t even worry about it. You did great just now.” The pride is back in his smile, so bright Peter almost looks away, “Always knew you’d be worthy. You’re the best of all of us.” 

Peter gapes, then softens, his head slowly falling atop of Tony’s hand. “Are you okay?” he whispers.

“Thanks to you I am.” Tony’s hand moves so that he’s cupping Peter’s face, and he takes a breath, like he’s readying himself for something important, “Listen Pete, sometimes we mess up out there and sometimes people get hurt. But that doesn’t make you any less of a hero. Or any less worthy of the title.” 

Peter looks unconvinced and Tony just squeezes his cheek, something teasing in his eye. “Hey, you know how many mistakes I’ve made, all the people I’ve let down.” Peter narrows his eyes, prepped to fight, but Tony just laughs, “If you can defend me even to my own self, you can give your own self some slack.” 

Peter stops, makes a face, then sighs, a small smile playing at his lips. “You think you could do that for me kid?”

“We’ll see.” he finally says. 

“That’s the spirit.” Tony grins and Peter can’t help but smile back.

“Hey, you know, you’re going to be able to play the best pranks on Thor now. Get that son of a bitch back for always leaving his hammer on top of things I need.” Tony remarks suddenly.

“I can’t prank Thor! He’s Thor!”

“Not with that attitude you can’t.” 

“Boss,” FRIDAY interrupts, “your takeout’s arrived.” 

Peter glances up in surprise, “I completely forgot about that.” 

Ten minutes later, the four of them are sitting on the dinner table as the wind blows through the apartment, shards of glass reflecting the light all across the floor. When Thor gets up to leave, he reaches out his hand, calling for his hammer and Peter catches Tony’s eye and grins, holding out his own. The hammer flies in the air and hesitates, turning this way and that. Thor frowns, extending his hand farther. “Haha little spider. Very funny. But the hammer will be choosing me.” 

“I’m just holding out my hand.” Peter shrugs, a mockery of innocence. 

As the hammer trembles in the air, Tony throws his head back and laughs and Peter knows that everything is okay. And that if there’s ever a time when it isn’t, that he has the power to stop it. He won’t let anything happen to Tony. 

The hammer inches closer.

**Author's Note:**

> This is shorter than usual but I've been having some writers block and thought I'd get this prompt outta the way. I hope you all enjoyed it though!


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